


Google Translate?

by E_Salvatore



Series: Tagged: TBTP Tumblr Fics [13]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Fic, pure fluff, the fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Salvatore/pseuds/E_Salvatore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://the-wonderful-jinx.tumblr.com/post/140390907689/tanis-is-here">this post</a>, in which <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wonderful_Jinx/pseuds/The_Wonderful_Jinx">The_Wonderful_Jinx</a> said:</p>
<p>  <i>"Okay now Im picturing Strand saying ‘I love you’ to alex in a bunch of different languages, thinking she doesnt know them.</i><br/> <i>She does…"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Google Translate?

**I**

It starts in the most innocent of ways.

They’re about to meet a colleague of his (one he hadn’t even known of until Alex had reached out to the professor to help them with some forgotten bit of Welsh mythology), walking down a deserted stretch of hallway when Alex bumps her shoulder against his arm, her eyes bright with a playful glint he hasn’t seen in far too long.

“So, how’s your Welsh?”

The consonant-heavy words roll off his tongue with practiced ease. (He was a romantic, once. Most days, it feels like a million lifetimes ago. But when Alex looks at him like this, eyes dancing and smile blinding…)

“Ti yw fy nghariad i.”

Alex blinks at him. He thinks her smile falters for just a second, but he can’t be sure.

“Impressive.” She says, and remains close enough to bump into him no less than seven times during the remainder of their walk.

 

 

 

**II**

“Hey, you majored in religion, right?”

Strand looks up from his laptop and turns his attention to Alex. She’s curled up in the wingback chair near his window, armed with her own laptop as they spend the afternoon working in companionable silence.

Well, it _had_ been silent. Not that he minds Alex starting a conversation; he could probably use a break from writing, no matter how short. “Yes.”

“Do you speak Hebrew?” Alex asks as she gets to her feet and stretches lightly to ease her stiff joints. They’ve been tapping away in silence for nearly two hours.

“As a matter of fact,” He shrugs as Alex picks up her laptop and approaches his desk.

She slides into the chair opposite his. “Really?”

If it were anyone else, he would’ve bristled at the question. But Alex isn’t being skeptical, isn’t doubting him. She rarely does, these days.

But she hasn’t changed _that_ much. “Let’s hear it, then,” She issues the challenge teasingly, her voice laced with laughter.

Strand fakes a scowl for her entertainment, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge. He’s also not one to learn from his mistakes, apparently. The first time in Welsh had been a complete accident, a spur-of-the-moment, speak-before-you-think incident.

This time, though – this time, he’s definitely pushing his luck.

“Ani ohev otach.”

It’s a poor choice on his part; three words are hardly going to convince Alex. But then again, she’s the one person he doesn’t have to prove himself to.

Alex’s eyes light up in delight. “Great! Would you mind translating this for me?”

He’d happily translate anything for her - anything other than those three words.

But there’s no need to tell her that. “Of course,” Strand says instead, glad for the excuse to take a short break from writing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he carefully notes how odd it is that Alex – Alex with her endless questions and burning curiosity - never asks him to translate what he says to her.

 

 

 

**III**

Alex has sighed three times in the last ten minutes.

“Is something the matter?”

“Hmm?” She looks up from her laptop to meet his eyes. “Oh, no. Sorry. It’s just- Nic found this article that relates to the case but it’s in German and Google Translate is messing it up. And my German’s limited to ‘gesundheit’.”

“Hab dich lieb,” He blurts out unthinkingly.

Alex stares at him for a moment before she (literally; how endearing) shakes herself out of it. “Wait, does this mean you speak German?”

“I’m afraid not,” Strand offers her an apologetic smile. “That’s the extent of my German vocabulary.”

“Ah,” Alex shrugs. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

They go back to work. Alex says something about having a friend translate the article. Strand wonders when she’ll ask him to translate his words.

 

 

 

**IV**

“I think I read a fanfic like this once.”

He knows Alex well enough to know that there’s a joke somewhere in there – a reference, maybe – but he remains, as usual, woefully clueless when it comes to such things.

“Of us trapped in an elevator? That seems like an oddly specific situation.”

“A very popular oddly specific situation,” Alex adds. “But no, not of us. Though if what Nic says is true, that might actually be out there somewhere.”

He still has no idea what she’s talking about. “How long have we been here?”

The glow of her phone’s screen seems unbearably harsh in the darkness of their metal cell. “Almost an hour,” She sighs. “About forty-five minutes. They _did_ say it might take up to an hour to get to us.”

“Let’s hope they’re punctual,” Strand mutters as Alex swipes at her phone. There’s a shrill beep to signal an incoming message, and seconds later Alex is laughing to herself.

“Hey, do you speak Russian?”

At this point, he doesn’t even try to talk himself out of it anymore (doesn’t even chastise himself whenever he finds himself looking up those three words in as many languages as possible and filing them away for future use). “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

In the darkness, he can’t quite make out Alex’s reaction. A few seconds pass; she should’ve laughed by now, or teased him for showing off.

Just as he’s about to reach for his own phone to illuminate the elevator, Alex very quietly says: “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”

His Russian isn’t actually that fluent, but any lovesick fool with ears would understand what Alex has just said to him.

Her phone lights up with another notification, revealing his wide eyes and tense shoulders.

Alex laughs and shakes her head at him. “One of my best friends is Russian, remember?”

“Oh. Right.”

“Anyway,” Alex hands him her phone. “Here’s what I was laughing at.”

It’s a Russian pun.

The city has been plunged into darkness and he’s sitting in an elevator, staring blankly at a Russian pun while Alex’s words echo in his mind.

_Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu._

_I love you too._

“Alex-”

The elevator comes to life with a nauseating lurch. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the artificial brightness. By the time he’s blinked away the last of his disorientation, the door has opened and Alex is on her feet, offering him a hand.

He allows her to help him up.

Alex doesn’t let go of his hand until they reach her car.

They don’t talk about any of it.

 

 

 

**V**

The first time he says “I love you”, Alex laughs and buries her head in the crook of his neck. 

“Finally,” Her breath tickles his collarbone, “English.”

“What?”

Alex props herself up on one elbow. “Did I ever tell you about the Valentine’s Day segments I used to produce for PNWS? They made me do it every single year. It was awful,” She grimaces at the memory; he takes note of her expression but can’t quite make sense of it, can’t quite make sense of anything she’s saying or doing. “Most of them were these really sappy, cheesy things. But my favorite one,” And here she grins and uses her free hand to run her fingers through his hair, “was the year we all learned how to say ‘I love you’ in fifty different languages.”

“Fifty?” He chokes out.

“Fifty.” Alex nods and rests her head on his shoulder.

A few minutes pass.

He’s still speechless.

“By the way,” Alex whispers into his ear. “I love you too. Je t’aime. Ich liebe dich. Ti amo.”

She whispers fifty different languages into his ear. 

He understands each and every one.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally titled Love is a Universal Language but damn it, this is already 260% too fluffy for me to handle so have a shitty title instead.
> 
> One last thing: Strand doesn't say _I love you_ in Welsh; he says _you are my love._


End file.
